"I begin to hate Uncle George!" says Rylton. "You see how you are
demoralizing me! But, surely, if you cannot live in peace with him,
there must be others--other relations--who would be glad to
chaperone you!"

"No," says the girl, shaking her head sadly. "For one thing, I have
_no_ relations--at least, none who could look after me; and, for
another, by my father's will, I must stay with Uncle George until my
marriage."

"Until your marriage!" Sir Maurice laughs. "Forgive me! I should not
have laughed," says he, "especially as your emancipation seems a
long way off."

Really, looking at her in the subdued lights of those pink lamps,
she seems a mere baby.

"I don't see why it _should_ be so far off," says Tita, evidently
affronted. "Lots of girls get married at seventeen; I've heard of
people who were married at sixteen! But _they_ must have been fools.
No? I don't want to be married, though, if I did, I should be able
to get rid of Uncle George. But what I should like to do would be to
run away!"

"Where?" asks Rylton, rather abominably, it must be confessed.

"Oh, I don't know," confusedly. "I haven't thought it out."

"Well, _don't,"_ says he kindly.